Dogberry. You have: I knew it would be your answer. Well,
for your favour, sir, why, give God thanks, and make
no boast of it; and for your writing and reading,
1340let that appear when there is no need of such
vanity. You are thought here to be the most
senseless and fit man for the constable of the
watch; therefore bear you the lantern. This is your
charge: you shall comprehend all vagrom men; you are
1345to bid any man stand, in the prince's name.

Dogberry. Why, then, take no note of him, but let him go; and
presently call the rest of the watch together and
thank God you are rid of a knave.
1350

Verges. If he will not stand when he is bidden, he is none
of the prince's subjects.

Dogberry. True, and they are to meddle with none but the
prince's subjects. You shall also make no noise in
the streets; for, for the watch to babble and to
1355talk is most tolerable and not to be endured.

Watchman. We will rather sleep than talk: we know what
belongs to a watch.

Dogberry. Why, you speak like an ancient and most quiet
watchman; for I cannot see how sleeping should
1360offend: only, have a care that your bills be not
stolen. Well, you are to call at all the
ale-houses, and bid those that are drunk get them to bed.

Dogberry. If you meet a thief, you may suspect him, by virtue
of your office, to be no true man; and, for such
1370kind of men, the less you meddle or make with them,
why the more is for your honesty.

Watchman. If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay
hands on him?

Dogberry. Truly, by your office, you may; but I think they
1375that touch pitch will be defiled: the most peaceable
way for you, if you do take a thief, is to let him
show himself what he is and steal out of your company.

Dogberry. Five shillings to one on't, with any man that knows
the statutes, he may stay him: marry, not without
the prince be willing; for, indeed, the watch ought
1395to offend no man; and it is an offence to stay a
man against his will.

Borachio. Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this
fashion is? how giddily a' turns about all the hot
1445bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty?
sometimes fashioning them like Pharaoh's soldiers
in the reeky painting, sometime like god Bel's
priests in the old church-window, sometime like the
shaven Hercules in the smirched worm-eaten tapestry,
1450where his codpiece seems as massy as his club?

Conrade. All this I see; and I see that the fashion wears
out more apparel than the man. But art not thou
thyself giddy with the fashion too, that thou hast
shifted out of thy tale into telling me of the fashion?
1455

Borachio. Not so, neither: but know that I have to-night
wooed Margaret, the Lady Hero's gentlewoman, by the
name of Hero: she leans me out at her mistress'
chamber-window, bids me a thousand times good
night,—I tell this tale vilely:—I should first
1460tell thee how the prince, Claudio and my master,
planted and placed and possessed by my master Don
John, saw afar off in the orchard this amiable encounter.

Borachio. Two of them did, the prince and Claudio; but the
1465devil my master knew she was Margaret; and partly
by his oaths, which first possessed them, partly by
the dark night, which did deceive them, but chiefly
by my villany, which did confirm any slander that
Don John had made, away went Claudio enraged; swore
1470he would meet her, as he was appointed, next morning
at the temple, and there, before the whole
congregation, shame her with what he saw o'er night
and send her home again without a husband.